


Hummingbird

by Cartonsofcartoons



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Slash, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-07
Updated: 2017-01-07
Packaged: 2018-09-15 12:07:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9234374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cartonsofcartoons/pseuds/Cartonsofcartoons
Summary: This is not quite the surrender Harry had in mind.





	

 

 

Harry was expecting a rough fucking, pain and blood to be the only things he would be made newly familiar with when they sealed the deal that he had signed in his bloody signature. He had resigned himself to it, pain was a good reminder, pain he was used to. But this?

 

This was torture the likes of which he hadn’t expected.

 

The room was dark, his glasses were off and it gave him the impression of blindness that was only making things worse. He could smell it in the air, not the stale and cloying musk of sex but that sharp scent coming from _him_ , plain soap and loose wet earth like in the Hogwarts greenhouses. _He_ loomed over Harry, his body curling around him, restraining him in the softest of ways. Harry almost wished he was claustrophobic, that he might learn to hate that feeling. But the small, confined places in the world reminded him too much of his old room, the cupboard he was always safe in because Vernon was too large to make his way inside.

 

It was only in his mind that he could hate _his_ touch, hate it all, but it was growing harder to think. Once more Harry wished for pain. The sharp hurt of it would lessen this dazed state he was in.

 

Gentle fingertips brushed up his side coming to rest softly at his neck, tracking his pulse. Feather light pressure felt the change in it, the sudden racing of his blood under his skin and Harry’s attention came back to him as he wondered.

 

Was this the part where they dug in and ripped his throat out? He was surprised by the eagerness of his own thoughts.  

 

But the pressure did not increase, the fingers just stroking, soft and gentle moving down his hands to hold his palms in their own, raising it to chapped lips. Harry almost bucked at the contact, the still gentle brush against his wrist, so light and yet he felt it so deep.

 

He lost track of time and his mind to the slow exploration moving all over his body. Fingertips hovering more than touching, with the occasional chaste and mind shattering kisses on the back of a knee, at the crease of his hip, at the  convex turn of his belly where for a moment he felt the face of his enemy burrow into the soft flesh there with a sigh he felt more than he heard.

 

 _His_ weight settled down upon him and it took everything in Harry to not gasp at the sudden sensation of so much bare skin against him. It felt like he was trying to burrow into him, get so close that they became one. Harry tried not to laugh at the thought. Become one in mind, body and soul? _His_ soul was already in him, _his_ mind could break into his whenever he wanted, and now he would have Harry’s body as well.

 

‘Oh Tommy boy,’ he sighed in the caverns of his mind, eyes trying to focus and finding place in the red almost glowing orbs looking at him possessively. With the same slow deliberation that Tom Marvolo Riddle had bestowed upon him he moved against his body, legs spreading and coming up to wrap around hips pressing into him.

 

Finally Tom’s mouth descended upon his, hungry and insistent, tongue running against the back of his teeth, sucking Harry’s tongue prodding him to come play, to respond and Harry did. He rose and the hands sprawled over his body moved to the back of his neck pulling him up and Harry wondered at the picture they probably made, so alike and pressed so close.

 

Their hips imitated their mouths, pressing against one another, cocks leaking, making the slide of skin slippery. They groaned into one another’s mouths, clinging, grinding frantically against each other, every extremity tangling until they didn’t know where one ended and the other began.

 

And then Tom pulled away, the sudden distance making Harry whimper with loss. A few seconds apart and he came back to Harry, hands slicked up with something to make the glide of flesh easier. Slippery hands caressed parts of Harry that had never been touched before, not even by himself. Exactly why that piece of skin between his balls and his hole was so sensitive he didn’t know, but it made his skin tingle with anticipation and his heart beat fast.

 

One hand wrapped around his length the other grazed insistently against that part of him. The lube or oil, whatever it was, felt wet but the pressure of his fingers was just hard enough that Harry could feel the rough of calluses rub against him. His head keened, thrown back with a whine and as Tom’s mouth attached to his pulse he wondered what it would feel like to have those calluses inside of him.

 

The thought, the desire rocked Harry’s mind, he had never thought such things before, not ever imagined the press of fingers inside of him. As if hearing his thoughts—and for all Harry knew, Tom had done exactly that—his fingers moved. They circled his pucker, and huh, Harry had never known how delicate that skin was before.

 

And then the fingers moved, inside him just as Tom’s mouth latched onto his right nipple and Harry gasped in pleasure, the only thing keeping him from coming was the hand pressing at the base of his cock.

 

The burn of the intrusion lessened his enthusiasm, but not nearly as much as Harry had expected it would. Tom’s attentions shifted to the left nipple, biting lightly, rolling the hardened nub between his tongue and teeth, one hand still stroking Harry’s cock while the other beat out a pattern against his insides. Just as Harry got used to the slight pain, the odd feeling of something in him, the tight stretch, a second finger joined the first one and a broken moan left his mouth.

 

He couldn’t think, could barely breathe. The heavy, thick haze pressed down on him, all sensation reduced to nothing but those few spots of pleasure. The fingers shifted, not exactly stretching or scissoring, just a  pressure that filled him, touching insistently until Harry was certain Tom’s fingerprints would be etched into the skin of his insides. Another finger popped past the ring of muscles and just as Harry thought it was too much, that this time the pain was something he wouldn’t get used to, they touched a spot inside that threw him into orgasm, cum spilling out over their bellies, mixing with sweat and spreading as Tom’s body ground down into him.

 

He was wrung out but the fingers didn’t stop, pressing against his prostate and Harry sobbed with the pleasure-pain of it. Tom shifted, hand moving from Harry’s now soft cock to his arse, grasping the cheek and kneading it, moving his limbs around until Harry felt Tom’s cock against the inside of his thighs. His fingers left him abruptly, drawing a needy, hitched sob from Harry, only to turn into a moan as Tom’s cock pressed into the cleft of his arse. Harry burrowed his face into the warmth of his chest, eyelashes fluttering against Tom’s nipple. He tensed as Tom’s hands spread over his arse cheeks, pulling them apart. He knew what was coming next but nothing could have prepared him for stretch as the tip of Tom’s cock breached him, the slow penetration stopping as the head popped just inside.

 

The pain was back but it mingled with pleasure and the heavy, odd satisfaction at being _filled_. Tom waited, pulling back even though Harry could feel in the tremble of his muscles how dearly he wanted to press in, and instead wrapped his hand around Harry’s cock again, pumping it gently. In no time at all, Harry was hard again and Tom began the process of pushing in, inch by inch until suddenly he was inside completely and utterly, balls pressing against Harry’s arse.

 

Harry’s back arched into a bow, drowning in sensations. He had never felt so full, as if he would burst from the pleasure, kept back only by the strain in his insides as he was stretched in a way he didn’t know he could be.  

 

And then...and then Tom _moved_.

 

The heavy drag of his cock as it pulled out until just the tip remained, only to push back in again had Harry choking on a groan only to let it out as it happened again, and again, and again. His breath hitched and then Tom slid his hands to his knees, pulling Harry’s legs up over his waist and his mouth fell open in silent scream. Every thrust now pressed firmly against that spot and Harry saw stars, saw God, saw infinity.

 

Tom pulled out, flipping Harry onto his stomach and pressed in again, his body covering Harry, a heavy weight against his back. His fingers tangled with Harry’s as he pushed closer and closer until every thrust was shallow, a filthy grind of hips. Harry swayed, Tom seemed to grow even larger, harder inside of him and Harry tightened all around him, muscles fluttering in want.

 

Tom gurgled and grunted, pulling out and slamming back in, setting a hard, bruising pace. The slap of flesh and the gasps Harry let out, rose to a crescendo until he came with a shout and Tom followed with a breathy hiss, his cock throbbing and pulsing inside of Harry, painting his insides with his cum.

 

He slumped over Harry and they both collapsed, a sweaty, breathless pair, still entangled intimately as Tom didn’t pull out and Harry tugged his arms around him in a mock embrace.

 

“I should surrender to you more often.” Harry said as his voice and mind returned. So it wasn’t quite love he had used as a weapon but a fuck was a close enough interpretation.

 

Tom laughed, a sibilant hissing sound, “I’m open to negotiating more orgasms.”

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I have never written porn. I have never written gay porn. I am not nearly as familiar with the male anatomy as I wish I was, so I cannot be assured that what I am writing is accurate. 
> 
> Please, feel free to tell me if I’m going horribly wrong somewhere.


End file.
